There Once Was a Highwayman

“I am Elaine, daughter of the Earl of Bekesbourne, and you, Sir, have no monopoly on short memories. Everyone was introduced so quickly that I’ve forgotten most of the names and titles. I know not to whom I speak any more than you did a short while ago.”

The smile beamed to show even, gleaming white teeth.

“My lady, I am but the second son to the Duke of Weyburn, and thus, I have no real title with which to clutter your pretty head. I have only my name. I am Ashton.”

His eyes locked on Elaine’s for only a second, but she felt a tingle race down her spine.

“I am very pleased to meet you, Ashton. You are the first of the guests to speak to me other than to exchange greetings.”

“Yes, and I fear you shall be disappointed further. The lot assembled here have much to discuss amongst each other. It is not likely they will burden you with any conversation.”

“So I am learning. Percival seems constantly occupied by the affairs of his estate. I would suppose the others have similar issues with which to concern themselves. It would only be natural that they should gather to gain from their common experiences.”

Ashton looked down the table at Percival. The chilling glare of his eyes returned.

“Yes, I think they shall all share a common experience on this night, just as they have on other nights when the Earl is absent.”

“And why, Sir, do you not join in their discourse? Surely even the second son of a duke has responsibilities in the family concerns.”

The icy glare changed immediately to the same gaze that pierced her very soul. He smiled again, and Elaine felt her heart flutter.

“As a matter of fact, I make my living from the leavings of my father and brother. They bestow upon me the more bothersome of their tasks, and it is just such a responsibility I fill by sitting at this table and basking in your beauty. My father and brother are occupied with some matter of the livestock, and I represent Weyburn Manor at their request. I must admit I had reservations about attending. Percival and I have, shall we say, some differences of opinion about certain matters of conduct. I would have been content to sip my soup in front of the fire and retire to my bed with a good book. Father would have none of that, so here I am. Had I known Percival would introduce such a lady at the festivities, I should have begged to come.”

Elaine felt a warmth rush over her face and shoulders and knew she must be blushing. Few men had ever had such an effect upon her as this man. It was wrong of one already betrothed to have such feelings, this she knew, but Elaine could not deny her attraction to Ashton. She wished the dinner would be over that she might slip away to the refuge of her room.

As she talked with Ashton, Elaine began to feel at ease in his presence. From time to time, she looked to Percival for some sort of recognition, but other than one short moment when his eyes met hers and his mouth formed a strange sort of smile, her future husband seemed oblivious to her presence. As the servants cleared the tableware, Percival rose and tapped a spoon against his crystal wineglass.

“Friends, neighbors, fellow landowners all, we have had a fine feast. You have met my lovely bride-to-be. I would now invite your company in my gaming room. I have made special preparations for your enjoyment. Bring your glasses and we shall continue our festivities.”

Chairs scraped on the planks as the men rose to follow Percival back to the main hall. As each passed, they bid Elaine good night. Only the fat and very drunk Baron of Brampton paid her any other attention, and Elaine did not relish his actions. The Baron lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, then slurred out, “’Tis a pity you’ll no’ join us. Ne’er mind, they be oth’r times aft’ yur th’ lady of th’ house. We’ll injoy yur comp’ny then.”

Elaine waited until he turned and then quickly wiped the spittle from the back of her hand. After she became Percival’s wife, there would be much less wine served at her dinner parties, and the Baron of Brampton would find himself spending those nights alone. Such a man would not cross the doorstep of her home.

“We men speak of our livestock as dumb creatures with no intelligence and no morals, but the swine in my father’s sty put that man to shame.”

Ashton’s voice startled her. She had thought he would join the others.

“Ashton. Why do you not follow the rest for a night of gaming?”

“Well, as I said, I am but the second son of a Duke. Percival invited the landowners of the group. I own nothing save a few animals and my clothing. Besides, their games are contrary to my beliefs.”

“I can understand you may have strong principles, but what harm could come from darts or some game of chance?”

“Perhaps you should ask Percival to explain that to you. In any event, I must be off. I will, no doubt, be called at an early hour for some task that should befall a servant. Father believes I must learn to earn my keep, as I shall not inherit his wealth. I bid you good eve, and pray I may enjoy your company again one day.”

Elaine had gone directly to bed, but only tossed and turned on the thick down mattress. She was unable to sleep, and unable to stop the thoughts that kept jousting in her mind. Why had Percival ignored her so? Did he not at least feel obligated to entertain her on her first night on his estates? Other than his introductions, he had not been within three arm-lengths of her the whole evening. He had been more attentive to Rebecca, the timid servant woman who stood at his side throughout the entire meal. And that twisted smile. Was Percival merely drunk, or was that a sneer of dislike?

No, Percival was just very preoccupied with the affairs of the estates, just as her father usually was. There was always some crisis with the crops, the livestock, or the servants that demanded his immediate attention. Such must be the case with Percival. Since his holdings were far larger than her father’s, his responsibilities much be also far greater.

And yet, though her father was a very busy man, he would always stop for at least a moment to ask how she felt this morning, to converse with her at meals, and to wish her a good night. If she were sad, he would stop his current task or delegate it to some underling, and sit with her. If she was happy, he was happy, and would spend an hour or so to hear of the experience that gave her joy.

She was being no better than a foolish servant girl with all these expectations. As Millie had said, the love Elaine dreamed of would not come until she and Percival had lived together for some time, and might never come at all. She should be thankful her father had arranged this marriage that she may never want nor worry.

If she considered herself so fortunate, and was willing to accept this life, why had Ashton made her feel as he had? A proper woman would surely not have been swayed by a rich voice and piercing grey eyes. She would have been pleasant, but distant, out of respect for her future husband. Yet, Elaine’s thoughts always came back to the tall man who had asked her name, and who had shown disgust for the conduct of the other guests.

These thoughts raced around and around in her mind as do the horses in their frozen gallop around a carousel. After a half-hour of this fretting, Elaine decided to go outside for an evening walk. Perhaps the cooler air of the night would drive these worries from her mind and she would be able to sleep. She wrapped herself in a light robe, donned her bedroom slippers, and quietly slipped out the door. Her small feet made no sound as she walked down the carpeted stairs and into the main hall. She was almost at the great oak door when she heard the low moan and the murmur that followed.

The sound had come from down the hall. Elaine could not conclude a reason for such a sound other than that someone was ill. Percival’s study was down that hall, and she feared the sound might have come from him. She silently crossed the polished wood planks to the first door and listened. Another sound, an even quieter moan, traveled from somewhere further down the hall. At the next door, Elaine again listened. Another moan came, closer, but not from this door. She stopped at the door at the end of the hall just as the murmur began. The sounds were coming from this room.

She could not open the door. What if Percival were in some state of undress? It would not do for her to see him unclothed before their wedding night. Yet, Elaine felt she must investigate. Percival could be in distress and in need of assistance. If she could just ascertain his condition, she could summon a male servant to attend to his needs. Elaine knelt at the keyhole and peered through the small opening. With great effort she stopped the gasp that threatened to burst from her throat.

Through the keyhole, Elaine saw a sight that smashed her sensibility to smithereens and caused her mind to reel in disbelief. The room was small, and lit by many candles placed along the walls. In the center was a large table the likes of which she had never before seen. It was of sturdy oak planks with two other planks extending in a “V” from one end, and had ringbolts attached to each leg. From the ceiling beams above the table hung several ropes and cords that ran through wooden rings to hooks on the wall.

Upon this table lay Rebecca. The young girl was completely naked save for the heavy leather straps that encircled her wrists and ankles. These straps were attached to the ringbolts in such a manner that the girl was stretched out on the surface of the table with her hips at the point of the “V”. Her most private parts were exposed to the leering eyes of the men who had attended the dinner. They were also completely undressed, and each was holding his stiff shaft in his hand and stroking it slowly. Percival stood at Rebecca’s side, naked as were the rest, with a riding crop in one hand and a burning candle in the other.

As Elaine held her breath, Percival tipped the candle and allowed the melted wax to drip on Rebecca’s large, full right breast. As the hot droplets splashed upon her skin, the girl moaned. Elaine saw the reason for the low volume of her cry. Rebecca wore an apparatus that held a large leather ball in her mouth. Percival tipped the candle again, this time over Rebecca’s other breast. The searing droplets splashed over her nipple and the girl arched off the table. Elaine silently cursed Percival for such treatment of his servant girl, and was about to burst open the door to stop his cruelty, when Rebecca opened her eyes.

Those eyes told Elaine more than a thousand words, for their expression was not one of pain and suffering, but one of the most exquisite pleasure. The girl was almost smiling around the gag. She arched off the table again and thrust her large patch of private hair at Percival. He tipped the candle a third time, and the wax dribbled onto the soft lips that protruded from those soft curls. The moan was louder this time, and Elaine saw Rebecca’s chest begin to heave.

Percival’s voice was breathy, as if he had just been running.

“Ah, my slutty little servant girl, you like that, don’t you.”

The answer was a sensuous thrust of the hips from Rebecca and a low groan. Elaine saw the men were stroking their organs more quickly than before.

“Perhaps my little mare would enjoy a breeding. Here, little whore, is your stallion. Careful what you do. He bites when aroused.”

Rebecca opened her eyes wide and again thrust up her hips. Percival quickly brought the riding crop down against her satin smooth thigh. The slapping sound startled Elaine, and she nearly fell over. The effect on Rebecca was quite different. She began rolling her hips against the table top and a constant stream of low, guttural sounds issued from her plugged mouth.

The riding crop fell upon Rebecca’s other thigh and left a long red welt that matched the first.

“See, bitch, I warned you. Now you will feel your lovers touch on those udders.”

The crop swiped across first one nipple and then the other, then across both again. The dark brown nubs grew long and rigid. One of the men stepped forward, took Rebecca’s nipples in his fingers and lifted her heavy breasts from her chest. As he pulled them into pointed cones, Percival barked at him.

“Damn you, leave this slut to me. You shall have your chance at her soon enough. She needs to be disciplined now.”

The man quickly released her nipples, and Rebecca’s breasts fell back into soft mounds that bobbed twice and then lay still.

“Now, bitch, your lover is will enter that greedy cunt of yours and fuck you like the whore you are.”

Percival turned the crop in his hand and extended it toward Rebecca. The braided leather handle pressed against her open lips and began to slowly disappear inside the woman. Rebecca’s reaction was a muffled cry, and a lurch upwards. Elaine assumed she meant to drive the instrument deeper into herself, but Percival chuckled and withdrew it.

“See how she craves the crop. She hunches it like a bitch in heat. You like that, don’t you, my little whore. Here, feel your lover again.”

Percival quickly plunged the handle into Rebecca and wiggled it with his fingertips. The girl’s reaction was one of pure animal lust. She cried out and began rocking her hips to move the crop in and out of her body. Her hands strained against the binding straps in an attempt to reach her breasts.

“Yes, hump away. Fuck your lover. Now, stop. That’s quite enough. I said stop, damn you.”

Rebecca did not stop until Percival yanked the riding crop from between her thighs. He held it to his tongue.

“Such a lovely taste from such a disobedient servant. You shall be punished more for your lust. Sir Harold, the clamps and vise if you please.”

Elaine watched as the aging Baron of Tillingham released his stiff organ and walked to the table. He picked up two wicked-looking pincer devices and attached one to each of Rebecca’s swollen nipples. Elaine saw him reach up for a small cord suspended from the ceiling. The Baron tied this cord to one clamp, reached up for a second cord and tied this to the other clamp. At his signal, one of the other men pulled on both cords, and the resulting tension stretched Rebecca’s breasts into long cones suspended from the clamps.

The Baron then picked up two flat slabs of oak joined at each end by a wooden screw. He unscrewed one end, slipped the planks around Rebecca's extended breasts, and then screwed both attachments together. The force of the screws mashed Rebecca’s elongated breasts flat. As the Baron gave each screw a final turn, Rebecca cried out through the gag, and began thrusting her hips at Percival.

“You see, gentlemen, a properly punished servant is a willing servant. Watch how she begs for her lover. See how the juices flow from her cunt in anticipation. Even her small rosebud begs for a good fucking. She wants a stiff prick in both holes. This crop will fill the nether passage, while I, of course, shall be the first in the bitches cunt.”

So saying, Percival wetted the crop handle in Rebecca’s glistening sex and then slowly pushed it into the puckered opening between her rounded hips. Rebecca shuddered and attempted to force herself over the leather phallus. Percival stepped back. The riding crop protruded obscenely from Rebecca’s hips and bounced in the air from her exertions. Percival wiggled the waving riding crop, then stepped between her thighs and straddled it’s quivering shaft. After lifting his organ and stroking it to increase it’s stiffness, Percival plunged it into the girl's sex and began stroking himself in and out through her glistening velvet lips. Elaine saw Rebecca’s eyes tip back as the girl began lifting herself to meet Percival’s thrusts. Occasionally, he reached forward and gave a tug on one of the cords by which the girls flattened breasts were suspended. Soon, Rebecca was moaning continuously and her hips shook in little shudders. Her face contorted into a mask of ecstasy, and she began to writhe under Percival. The girl finally cried out and lifted herself high off the table. Percival groaned and pumped furiously at her dripping lips, groaned again, and collapsed on top of the girl.

Elaine saw that two of the other men had moved to Rebecca’s face and were stroking themselves rapidly. She gaped as they groaned and shot streams of white fluid from the tips of their organs to splash on Rebecca’s cheeks and hair. The others continued to stroke themselves slowly, she supposed to maintain their arousal without spending their seed as had the two.

“Who shall be next to mount my randy cow?”, chuckled Percival. “She’s good and wet now, and spread wide open for you. You, Winfred, won’t you breed this slut for me?”

By now, Elaine was sickened at the sight before her and did not wish to see further activities. She could guess that each man, in turn, would penetrate the girl and thrust away until he had spent himself deep inside her body. As she turned away from the keyhole, the words of the Baron of Brampton came back to her and caused a chill to race down her spine.

“There’ll be other times after you’re the lady of the house. We’ll enjoy your company then.”

At once it was clear. Percival meant to have her strapped to that same table, to have her firm, tender breasts stretched by wicked clamps and bound in oak planks. He meant to share her with the rest of these perverted “gentlemen” when they played the “games” he said he had so carefully prepared. That could be the only explanation for the way his eyes wandered over her body at their first meeting, and for the twisted smile he gave her at dinner. Elaine would not truly become his wife. She would be only the vessel in which Percival would sow his seed, the mother to his heir, and the object of demeaning pleasure for him and his cohorts. It was evident that Rebecca enjoyed this perverted treatment. Elaine would sooner end her own life than submit to such depraved acts. She vowed to leave this place of horror as soon as Percival went to inspect his fields the next morning.

Elaine did not sleep that night. As the cock crowed to greet the morning sun, she sat at the window watching the stable. Soon, she saw Percival stride from the house, take the reins of a white gelding from a groom, mount, and ride toward the East. She prayed he would be gone at least until the mid-day meal. The coach could not travel so quickly as a man on horseback.

Millie was flustered and attempted to convince Elaine to remain. Not until Elaine had related her experience of the past night did she run to rouse the coachman. While Old Eric hitched the team to the coach, Millie threw their clothing into the luggage and they carried it down the stairs. Rebecca stood between them and the door.

“My Lady, why do you leave?”

“Millie has become ill, and we must return to Balmore Grange as quickly as possible.”

“‘Tis a pity.” Rebecca put her hand on Elaine’s waist and stroked gently. “I was to entertain you this morning while Percival is away in the fields. I’m certain you would enjoy my company.”

“Be that as it may, I must get Millie home.”

“But, Percival will be upset by your departure. He will surely blame me. I shall be whipped and cast out to work in the fields.”

“Tell Percival of my decision and that my father will contact him about a future meeting. Now, we must go.”

At that moment, old Eric opened the door to inform them they could depart. In a few minutes, the coach was moving with as much speed as Eric could coax from the horses. Elaine and Millie sat for half an hour before either could speak.

‘M’Lady, what will you tell your father?”

“I’ll tell him the truth about Percival and his depraved habits. If Percival is fortunate, Father will only shame him into seclusion. If he chooses to press for marriage to me, Father will have him bound and whipped.”